Haters, Lovers, Friends
by IndigoGrapefruit
Summary: Three short stories. Of haters, lovers, and friends and of the transition from one to another.
1. Touché

**Indigo's Corner  
Three drabbles. First one's for Jai. I hope you're happy because I killed Tsubasa, just for you.  
Yeah, I just realized. My life is stressy. Sucks to be me.  
I made Nobara as in character as I could in her "ice queen" personality. Of course, despite this, I know for sure that I've put some things in there that she would never think or do.**

**Disclaimer  
Disclaimed.**

**Dedication  
This one's for Moses.**

**I'M GOING TO SAY THIS ONCE, AND ONLY ONCE. THE GENRES AND CHARACTERS WILL ONLY BE BASED ON THE DRABBLE SHOWN ON THE SUMMARY. IT DOES NOT APPLY TO ALL OF THEM.**

* * *

**Touché**

Tsubasa Andou died the Tuesday before last Tuesday.

I was actually quite ashamed to say that I found out by my cousin's best friend's boyfriend's sister, who also happened to be a friend of a friend of mine. It must be a small world. I didn't know why she told me, but word seemed to get around very easily, something I had to find out through life the hard way.

I didn't know why I even bothered or cared. I also knew for a fact that I did care. If I didn't care, I wouldn't be here in front of his grave, on a bright Saturday carrying a plastic bag that seemed to weigh a ton when in reality it was probably no less than a kilogram.

I had to do this, I told myself as I walked up to his grave. I pushed my initial shyness to the back of my mind, numbing my feelings until they all diminished. I wanted to get this over as quickly as possible and they would only get in the way.

I took the first step.

I got the confirmation from my best friend Misaki Harada last night. She told me that yes, Tsubasa Andou did die and yes, she had been at his funeral and no, she'd never thought the day would come. Her voice was cracking, and I could tell that she was near tears.

I was very sensitive to her feelings, but I made it crystal clear that no, I didn't care one bit about him – an action I was contradicting at the very moment. I knew she was very upset with me, but she decided to let it go; she'd already learned her lesson when she tried to get between our feuds in High School.

Misaki wasn't particularly pretty or smart. She was your average tomboy, who loved sports and had lots of guy friends and everything. What made up for it was that she had a huge, kind heart. Even though she was hot-tempered, she accepted everyone for who they were and refused to hate or prejudge. She was completely oblivious to it, but it was that trait that made her charismatic, that made people want to be around her. And I loved her with all my heart; she was my very best friend.

Tsubasa was quite the opposite. I hated him since I was fifteen. Hated him with all my heart and soul.

Dare you scorn me not, for I had a valid reason.

We all thought that he was desperate for Misaki in high school, the way he was sweet-talking her and being the perfect gentleman in front of her. We all knew he wanted to pin her, but we had our precautions. Misaki was the heart of our group, and we refused to let him get to her without approval from us first. But he was a sweet boy and pleaded and charmed and sucked up to us until we all let down our guards. We gave him one last challenge. We knew Misaki was fairly inexperienced in the dating scheme; we also knew that she had no intention of dating during her high school years either. We told him that if he could somehow persuade her to go out with him, then we would have no more objections. He took up the challenge gladly.

A month later, they were happily together.

However, the "happily ever after" didn't last long at all, for it all went downhill from there. Misaki and my friends couldn't understand what was happening, but I had a pretty good idea. I had never been a vigilant person, but I did it for her sake. For the first time in my life, I didn't know if to feel happy or irritated that Misaki was so naïve.

It was quite clear to me that Tsubasa wasn't in for the love; he was in for the chase. I saw it in my eyes. He saw her as something desirable, something that he would not dream of having, so he put all his effort into getting her. It was similar to the term, "be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it." He wanted her so much that when he got her, he realized that she wasn't what he wanted after all.

So he did the first thing his peanut-sized brain told him to do. He dumped her.

Misaki, who had become quite attracted to him, went into depression. She actually came over once on a rainy day and broke down right in front of my eyes. She cried for a good hour or so about him. I lost count of how many times the name "Tsubasa" came out of her mouth that day.

I comforted her as best as I could. I told her that it was okay, that if he didn't deserve her. I told her that he wasn't worth it. I told her whatever I could to cheer her up. She nodded to everything I said that day.

She eventually forgave him.

I never did.

One thing you should know: do not hurt any one of my friends, because if you messed with them, you messed with me. Never underestimate me because of my shyness, for I could be quite venomous when I actually antagonized someone. I just never actually had the need until then. I declared public war on Tsubasa. Every time I saw him, it was like a part of me froze up. In seconds, I went from a sweet, shy little girl to this cold, sarcastic, and bitter persona.

I stop in front of his grave, staring at the words my cool, apathetic eyes. They weren't lying; he really did die. I suddenly felt the urge to break into hysterical laughter.

"I wonder of you remember me, Andou. I wonder if you even hear me right now. Look at you," I scorned him, "lying there pathetically in your grave. Useless. Like I always knew you were…

"You know, I hate you. I really do. I always have hated you. You're a horrible, selfish person. Did you know that Misaki cried when you died? She didn't tell me, but I know that she did. You were the one who destroyed my best friend. Did you know she took care of me in the place of my mother when I was a child? For all the times I was abused, neglected by my family, she was the only one who cared. I don't even consider her as a sister; she _is _my sister. She was there for me when no one else was. In turn, I was the one she trusted the most. But you changed that. You were someone that she cared about more than me, and you left her. You wounded her. For that, I will never forgive you. Ever. As long as I love Misaki, I will always hate you."

All the words I was aching to say to his face spilled out then and there.

"I remember that I once said nonchalantly to my friends that I wouldn't care at all if you died. And you know what? I think you deserve this. I really do.

"I came here today, not knowing why. At first, I thought I came here to laugh, but I couldn't. Hate is a very strong feeling, Andou; it creates an unbreakable bond. I don't think either of us realized it, but we unintentionally became a big part of each other's lives. That's the real reason why I came – to leave you behind. Our war is over, Andou. Touché."

I never told anyone what happened that day. I left no evidence that I was ever there except for a single yellow rose, tied to it by a ribbon a note, wishing his journey well…

…signed by Yours Truly, Nobara Ibaragi.

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**Okay, to answer some people, touché might not exactly be the best word to describe this fic, but I feel that it is appropriate in a way. The word is used to acknowledge a clever response in an argument. Nobara and Tsubasa's feud is like a giant argument in this case. In his death, he makes her acknowledge him and thus she declares them even. That was sort of the meaning that I was trying to get out.**

**Okay, you know what, Janet? No one understands you and you're rambling to yourself. Stop.**

**Tsubasa's death and Nobara's OOCness is to be completely blamed on Heartbroken Confession, because she insisted on a Nobara and Tsubasa fic. Shame on you Jai, for wanting to kill Tsubasa so badly.**

**Okay. I apologize for the mistakes. I haven't time to edit this, but I will. As for the names, if you find any mistakes, it's because I wrote this drabble as an original story before I changed it into a GA fanfic.**

**Reviews, my lovelies?**

**-IndigoGrapefruit**


	2. Like, Don't Touch My Paper

**Indigo's Corner  
I missed the NxM moments. I've been spending too much time on other Gakuen Alice people lately. I missed my two darlings.  
Fact: this is actually based on something that happened to me. A lot of things in my stories are based on things that happen in my life, actually. I would like to think that I write my soul into my stories.  
Ghandi darling, I'm sorry this isn't NxG, but sometimes we just can't have what we want. ;)**

**Disclaimer  
Disclaimed.**

**Dedication  
My little Ghandi darling.  
Sadly, she's the only one out of G-JAM I can call little.**

* * *

**Like, don't touch my paper**

We really needed a new seating plan so Natsume can stop bothering me.

I could swear that he'd been poking my arm repetitively for the past half hour or so; all the while I was trying to finish my English homework so that I didn't have to do it at home.

"Stop," I half giggled as he went for my stomach. It wasn't my fault! I was ticklish around that area!

While I was distracted, he snatched my paper off of my desk and set it on the farther side of his table. I reached for it but he snatched it and extended his arm so that it was out of reach. I made a grab for it, but he blocked me with his other arm. I tried getting it from the other side, but he moved his arm again so that I couldn't reach it. In the end, it looked like we were getting intimate so I stopped.

The last thing I wanted to do was something stupid – say, accidentally kiss him – when a roomful of classmates would see it, including my friend the gossip queen, Sumire Shouda.

"Give it back!" I whined. "Stop bullying me, you meanie!"

He set the paper back on the desk next to his blank sheet. Then he reached for his pencil and started scribbling down answers.

"As soon I get all your answers," Natsume said, hiding a smirk. What a jerk!

I crossed my arms. "Do your own work, Natsume. You're better at English than I am anyway!"

"Mikan, Just let him have it," Sumire cut in with a yawn from behind us, "He'll give it back eventually."

"No! Ms. Senari is going to find out!" I yelled.

I hurriedly glancing at the teacher, but she was busy discussing something with Yuu Tobita.

"Why do you have to choose my assignment out of all the people in the class?" I asked, sulking. "Look, even Mochu's doing his work, and that's a first for him."

On my left side, Mochu's head raised and he drowsily commented, "Huh? What did you say?"

"Oh, nothing," I quickly told him. "This doesn't concern you. Go back to what you were doing."

He gave me a weird look and ducked his head again.

I turned back to Natsume and tried to glare. Tried. Emphasis on the tried. "Give me back my paper!"

Natsume teasingly held my paper out of reach again. This time I was determined to get it. I made a sharp movement from behind him, but he evaded me. I grinned slightly to myself at the trap that I made and quickly grabbed for it from in front. He fully stretched out his arm, making me reach further. As a result, I fell on his lap and he had to shove me off.

I gave a surprised squeak as I fell back on my butt and pushed my chair back slightly with a screech.

He gave me a daring look and got up from his seat, taking my sheet with him. He was deliberately teasing me. I put my hands on my hips for a split second then got up after him. He was walking over to sit with Koko and Kitsuneme, which would undoubtedly result in the three of them having the exact word for word answers as I did, should the teacher check.

"Natsume!" I called.

Smirk. "Don't worry, stupid. I'll be done in no time."

"Natsume!" I repeated, dead serious. "Give it back. Now."

"Wait!"

He got up again and headed for another desk up front with Ruka. He stopped on the way to let Nonoko through to her desk. I saw that as an opportunity. The paper was held firmly in his hand. I leapt and made a grab for it and pulled. He pulled on impulse and guess what happened?

Rippp!

I looked, mouth open, from the half of the paper I possessed to the half that was in his hand to his face. Natsume was also bewildered and amused at what had just happened, but more of the latter. Several other students raised their heads and stared at the scene, shocked. Ms. Senari, however, was explaining something to Yuu and only flashed us a stern look.

I flailed my hands around violently and screamed, "Natsume!!"

"My bad!" he snickered.

I furiously stomped back toward my desk with half a sheet of paper in my hand and a red face and started banging my forehead on the desk. He strolled lazily after me, hands in his pockets. I rolled my eyes and sat down. He slid down on his seat down beside me.

Sumire looked at us both amusedly, an eyebrow raised. "What," she almost laughed, "Happened?"

I tilted my head to the left and gave him a half glare, half dirty look. I turned back at Sumire and waved both halves of my assignment in front of her face. "What do you think?"

"Wow…"

I sighed and picked up one half in each hand. I looked from left to right and fitted them together, then separated them again. "What am I going to do about this?" I hissed and got up from my seat.

Natsume, as expected, got up too and headed over to the teacher's table trailing behind me. We waited there as wrapped up her talk with Yuu, me giving him a glare every five seconds. He didn't seem to mind though; it was more like he (half-seriously) tried to reason to me that he could fix it, but I was too stubborn to listen. He snatched the two halves of the paper from me and held it in his hands. Great, even when my paper was ripped, he still wanted it.

Finally Yuu left after the elongated talk, flashing me a sympathetic smile, and we stood side by side in front of the teacher's desk awkwardly, him holding the two sides of my assignment sheet and me standing there with my arms crossed. Ms. Senari' jaw dropped slightly to form a small o.

"What happened?" she inquired, her tone clearly indicating that she didn't want to know.

I bit my bottom lip furiously and gave the boy beside me a dirty look. "It was all Natsume's fault."

He just grinned and asked, "Can we have some tape?"

Ms. Senari sighed and shook her head at us. She opened her drawer, fetching out a roll of clear tape, which Natsume took.

"Just give it," I told him as we were going back to our desks.

He lifted the paper out of my reach again with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I'll fix it for you."

"I don't trust you."

"When have I ever not fixed any mess that you've made?"

Good point. "Fine, but you're answering question seven for me. I didn't get around to that yet."

"Uh huh," he muttered, already strolling away.

When I sat back at my desk, Sumire rolled her eyes and told me, "You two are idiots."

"You think?" I sighed. "With any luck, he's probably going to keep my paper and Ms. Senari is going to collect it and I'm going to get a big fat zero. I mean, seriously, considering how many of my papers have magically disappeared since I started having classes with Natsume…"

"That's Natsume for you."

"Tell me about it."

Someone prodded me on the shoulder, and I turned to see Ruka, who unbelievably dropped my paper in front of me.

He shrugged. "Natsume told me to pass this to you."

I blinked in surprise, and examined the rip. It was taped to the exact milimetre. Figures. Natsume was always a perfectionist, unlike me. He probably already copied every answer of mine anyway, not that they'd do any good for him. I was barely scraping through this class and he was getting 90s with no effort whatsoever. Speaking of which, did he do that question like I asked him to?

My eyes flashed down to number seven. On the space provided for the answer of question seven, he wrote four words.

_Go out with me._

I dropped the paper and flickered my glance to Natsume, who smirked and winked at me from across the room. My jaw dropped, and I gave a funny half snort out of amusement. I rolled my eyes at him, but couldn't help grinning giddily at the same time.

The sly jerk.

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**Bwahahaha.**

**Okay, I wasn't satisfied with this completely, but I've been running a bit dry lately and I tried to make the best of it.**

**Review, and you will get a reward.**

**...**

**You will!**

**Oh and Jesus, if you ever get to reading this, we both fail at drabbles.**

**-A fur oh die tea.  
****P.S. Above = five random words, in case you thought that was a secret code.**


	3. Of Casual Flings and Sharing Swings

**Indigo's Corner  
That's it. This is the last one out of the three "drabbles". I suppose they can't be called drabbles because all of them were over 1000 words. I guess we'll just call them short stories then.**** ;)**

**Disclaimer  
Disclaimed.  
& Also, the "him and her" theme was inspired by xoxluurve's stories from Fictionpress.**

**Dedication  
My Hopeless Romantic, the holy block of wood A.K.A Jesus.  
Save the best for last, eh, Anna? ;) I know you're a sucker for the SumireKoko pairing.**

* * *

**Of Casual Flings and Sharing Swings**

It was one dance. One dance.

He asked her to one dance, and she'd made the mistake of accepting. All it ever was was a casual fling. She needed a date, and he just happened to be there. It wasn't like she had much of a choice in the matter. What would people say if Sumire Shouda showed up at the dance dateless? She shuddered at the horror.

He wasn't a loser, but he wasn't well known. She swore to god that she never saw him before until he came up and bluntly asked her out. She turned her friend Wakako and asked who he was. She thought she said it in a whisper, and that he didn't hear, but when she turned back, his eyes were had a hollow emptiness in them.

She agreed, not because she liked him, but out of spontaneity and perfunctoriness.

He got a different impression.

She wasn't honest when she told her friends the next day that he'd been trying to get into her pants last night. She knew he didn't have that kind of intent. If anything, it was quite the contrary. In the darkness of the room, when the colourful lights reflected off of his eyes, she saw sincerity and affection.

All of a sudden, she didn't feel very well.

She excused herself and ran. She left the dance in her three-inch heels and sprinted home in the cold, damp spring weather. As soon as she got home, she excused herself from dinner and buried herself under the covers, in her semi-soaked emerald halter-top dress.

Her brother was worried about her. She knew because he'd knocked frantically on her door later that night, but he couldn't open it because the only key to her room clenched tightly in her hand.

Scrunched into a tight ball, she cried herself to sleep.

* * *

She disguised her puffy eyes with makeup when she went to school the next day and hoped that she wouldn't encounter him in the hallways. No one suspected a thing. She made up excuses as to why she abandoned the dance. She told all her friends that he tried to take advantage of her. She lied.

But for all she knew, none of it seemed worth it when she came out from the washroom and saw the look on his face.

Her friends immediately snapped at him and accused him of assaulting her. He didn't admit it, but he didn't deny it either. They shrieked at him, but his eyes were on her the whole time.

She felt sick for the second time.

While her friends were censuring him, she just avoided his deep gray eyes and walked away.

He tried to follow her, but her friends didn't let him. They told him to leave her alone, and that she didn't want him. They told him he had no right to talk to her again after what he'd done. He didn't understand. What did he do? What did he do to make her hate him so much?

Eventually, they dispersed and headed to class. But it was too late. She was no longer in sight and he decided to head to class too, before he was late.

* * *

He used to love the swings as a child. He still did. He loved it when the cool wind blew in his face and cleared all his thoughts. Despite the dirt being damp, and the clouds being dark, he still had a ghost of a smile on his face.

He knew she walked home every day along this path at exactly 3:30. Despite her having a lot of friends, she walked home alone. He knew because he lived in her neighbourhood, and he walked behind her for many days, but she never knew.

He saw her tiny figure coming from behind the broad leaves of the oak trees. She was looking down, as if the ground had some kind of interesting pattern. Her expression was apathetic but her eyes were dull.

Jumping from the swing, he landed on the wet ground with a thump.

She looked up from the path, her face changing expressions rapidly when she saw him. She huffed furiously and did a one-eighty, speed walking back the way she came from.

He grabbed his bag and chased after her, having an advantage for his legs were longer and he was faster. Once he caught up to her, he grabbed her shoulders and forcefully turned her around to stare him in the eye.

She lashed out at him. She demanded why he was stalking her, why he was going everywhere she was.

He told her he'd stop if she swung with him once.

She agreed, wanting to get it over with as soon as possible.

He took her to the swings. She asked him how she would swing with him when the other swing was broken. He responded by pulling her down on his lap. She squeaked, but it was too late. He'd already trapped her by snaking his arms around her waist.

They swung back and forth gently, their feet never leaving the ground.

His grip tightened on her, and his mouth descended to her neck, showering her with gentle kisses. They trailed from her neck all the way up to her ear.

She stiffened; this was not what she signed up for.

He told her he loved her.

She told him to stop.

She pried his arms off and got up, storming away again as fast as she could. Her eyes were shining with tears.

* * *

She went to school with heavier makeup the next day. The bags under her eyes were getting worse, but she was determined to do all she could to disguise them. She tilted her head up high and her maintained a haughty frontage.

Not even past second period, her friends confronted her. They told her that someone had seen her with him at the park after school. Their strong, united voice wasn't nearly as satisfying as it was when it supported her, rather than now, when it went against her. They were angry with her; they believed she manipulated them. They demanded to know why she lied to them.

She tried to explain, to tell them the truth, but they wouldn't listen. They were stubborn and inconvincible. Finally, they left, but not before scoffing at her story and telling her to save her breath.

She felt like crying, but she bit back her tears. Whatever happened to her pride, she asked herself. When had she become this horribly weak, dependable girl?

She felt a tap to her left shoulder. She looked up.

He smiled at her hopefully, holding out a tissue.

She turned away and ignored him.

* * *

The dismissal bell rang.

She got up as fast as she could and walked out into the hallway, filled with noises and gossip and people giving her demeaning looks. She ducked her head and clenched her bag tighter and sped up her strides. The voices were never-endingly mocking her. The faces of all the people were a blur. She felt dizzy and nauseous. She just wanted to go home. She wished this never happened. She made a dash for the staircase.

But she didn't expect him to be there.

As her eyes widened, Sumire realized that she would always have a million judgmental friends that made up "the tide".

Only Koko would be waiting at the end of the hallway, at the end of the day, reaching out to her and beaming.

And her face would never fail to light up.

There would always be stereotypes and standards. Her friends would never think that he was good enough for her, and his friends would never think that she was good enough for him. The tide would always oppose them, and always will.

But together, they would swim against it.

And they would succeed.

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**OMG CLICHE MUCH? It's full of fluff. So what do you say, Anna? Still believe I'm not into romance? ;)**

**I'm telling you guys: I baked cookies this sunday. White chocolate and chocolate chip. There's always the option of clicking that green button thingie there. Maybe, just maybe you'll get one...**

**-Afro Die Tea**


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